Partially Permeable Membrane
When the sun was done drumming our backs for the day he decided to give us a glass of water in the form of tiny diamonds falling on our faces that first day we met at the graveyard. You needed somewhere to put your love and so you left it scrawled in a notepad on your desk, left it in sodden tissues next to your bed, you left your love in flowers on strangers tombstones until you found my hand. You said that the two of us are as natural as water passing through a partially permeable membrane in plant cells, but that wasn’t true because every time you slipped your tongue in my mouth I felt as if a whole new world was entering mine. As the sky turns from a fluorescent apricot to a confused blue, the fireflies make their nightly appearance, dancing and flitting the same way they have for centuries you remind me, that I am the place where your love fits. You tell me its in my pores, its in my cells, its in my blood, and its in my eyes, your love fits here, I am the tissues, the flowers and the notepad, and you are my whole new world. We are as natural as water passing through partially permeable membrane in plant cells.